


A Distinguished Pillar of the Vor

by Rose_Milburn



Series: The AU life of Ivan Xav Vorpatril [10]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 15:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Milburn/pseuds/Rose_Milburn
Summary: This is the last work in the series of AU stories about Ivan Vorpatril. His cousin Miles has died and they assemble at Vorkosigan Surleau to bury him.





	A Distinguished Pillar of the Vor

A DISTINGUISHED PILLAR OF THE VOR

 

 

A charred and blackened flake, red-orange glowing edge fading to white ash, slipped into the convection current and whirled up out of sight as the smell of burning hair faded away. Part of a maple leaf, Ivan decided. Thinking about the leaf stopped him thinking about anything else. The air was sharp and clear at Vorkosigan Surleau, and in the distance the edge of the snow-line veiling the Dendarii peaks had advanced well down the mountains. Winter was coming. The raw earth in front of them lay like an ugly gash marring the tranquillity of the graveyard.

As the wisps of smoke eddied and drifted away Armsman Roic stepped forward to the bronze brazier set on its simple tripod. It cooled rapidly in the chill air and he tipped the last of the ash onto the ground before carefully wiping the metal surface and returning both bowl and stand to their velvet bag.

He was the only one to move. They were waiting for Ekaterin and Cordelia, standing shoulder to shoulder, and for Alex, uncomfortable in his House blacks, his eyes still denying his new authority. Selig wore his dress greens with a broad brassard on his left arm proclaiming his mourning, but the expression on his face didn’t need any sign of outward show. The Vorkosigans were all of them at a loss.

Ivan bestirred himself. “My lady?” He held out his arm to Ekaterin and softened his voice as he would to one of his grandchildren in distress. “The children should go inside out of the cold.” He waited, his hand covering Ekaterin’s where it lay on his arm, as even here precedence prevailed.

Emperor Gregor Vorbarra roused himself from contemplating the grave and crossed to Cordelia’s side. He held out his other hand for Miles Xav, who still clutched the taper he had used to light the offering. Lord Vorkosigan struggled for a moment, torn between his desire to be seen as grown-up amongst this sombre crowd and the need for his great-uncle’s comfort. Comfort won and he thrust the taper off to Roic before burrowing in under Gregor’s right arm for a hug. Alex looked at Ivan in bewilderment, waiting for guidance, so he tipped his head in Laisa’s direction. The new Count Vorkosigan pulled himself together and remembered his duty, collecting little Delie to walk with him and the Empress. Gregor and Cordelia, Alex and Laisa and then Ivan and Ekaterin led the way through the little gate in the stone wall and headed for the long, low house set on the terrace overlooking the lake. The path was lined by the full cohort of Vorbarra armsmen, all standing at attention, impeccable in their house blacks. Prince Xav, yielding to Ekaterin, slipped in behind with Helen, Lizzie leant on her husband Antoine’s arm, Taurie was collected by _her_ husband and Byerly Vorrutyer, leaning on an ebony cane, stepped forward to escort Simone. Selig, Ivan noticed, walked with Belpierre Vorrutyer by his side, their arms and hands brushing together with each step. Had Miles known about that little twist?

Ekaterin stopped once to look back, her hand tightening on Ivan’s arm. Nikolai still stood by the grave. Miles had been an infinitely better father to Nikolai than his blood parent had ever been. Ivan felt her breath falter briefly before she resolutely walked on.

“Nikki will be along shortly,” he remarked. “Alex asked him to supervise Wynn and Dobra. He just needed a job to do, I think.”

Ekaterin nodded, but she didn’t say anything. Words were obviously beyond her just then. They reached the house, where Vorhalas armsmen manned the doors and the Vorrutyer, Voralys and Vorbretten armsmen had been busy setting out the refreshments. They were sharing the load with their Vorkosigan peers as best they could, a display of solidarity that Ivan knew wouldn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated.

Ekaterin baulked at entering the big lounge room. Her throat worked at last. “Ivan, I just can’t.”

“No problem.” He turned to one side down the corridor and nipped into the old general’s study, rarely used these days except to the store the documents Duv Galeni was spending his retirement researching. Its smell of old leather and saddle soap still lingered. He pulled out a chair from the desk and pressed her down into it before kneeling at her side. He ruthlessly suppressed the scream of complaint from his bad knee.

“Just breathe.” He kissed her hand and held onto it tightly. “I don’t know how to describe it. For years we’ve all been watching Miles. He’s incandescent, like a science experiment with a piece of magnesium ribbon burning in oxygen.” He paused a moment, thinking. “No, better yet. He’s like a combat flare. The brightest possible light that illuminates the entire sky, attracts every eye and then just suddenly winks out. All you can see is utter blackness and the retained imprint on your retinas.”

Ekaterin nodded. “Yes,” she agreed softly. “He _was_ just like that, Ivan.”

Ivan hadn’t even noticed he’d been talking as if Miles was still with them. He hadn’t meant to add to her hurt. Ekaterin looked him in the eye, and laid the palm of her free hand across his cheek for a moment. “We’re all of us grieving, Ivan. Who’s helping you?”

He half-laughed, half-sobbed. “I miss him so much. We’re a pair, aren’t we? We’ll each manage the best way we can. You need to go take an eight-hour sleep timer, and I need to go get drunk with Mark and Alex and Gregor and all the rest of them.”

She shook her head in despair. “I can’t do that. If I go to sleep I’ll wake up again, and that’s worse than all the rest.”

He sighed. “That’s exactly it. It’s the problem I can’t solve for you, but I know what you mean. With me, with Raine, the best possible part of every day is to wake up and have her there beside me. I’m not talking about the sex…” He trailed off for a moment, thinking again, “although I’m not averse to—never mind that. When I was young and stupid and tomcatting around any chance I got, waking up with someone was more awkward than not, most of the time, but just to have Raine _there_ , it’s so much more than I deserve. I know Miles felt like that. He often told me. You were so _precious_ to him. And you feel like that, too, but it’s been snatched away from you. But you _had_ that, Ekaterin, for forty years. Most people never find such joy. My mother lived most of her adult life on her own. Miles was always terrified he’d never find anyone who could love Barrayar, and could love him warts and all, and then he found _you_.”

“ _Tis better to be left than never to have been loved._ Is that what you’re trying to say, Ivan? Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely. Byerly would know where that quote came from. I’m afraid I don’t, but I _do_ think it’s right. Be thankful for the joy.”

“William Congreve, eighteenth century Earth,” Ekaterin told him almost automatically. She looked at their clasped hands. “If I had never met Miles, if Nikki had grown up fatherless and ashamed of his Vorzohn’s dystrophy, _if, if, if…_ I loved him, and he’s gone. Forty years isn’t enough. That’s all I know right now.”

“I can’t make it go away. Cordelia knows better than me what it’s like. I can only try, Ekaterin. I can only try to help you, as best I can.”

There was silence for a moment or two. Ekaterin startled him when she jumped to her feet. “You can help me to the bottle of maple mead. Everyone will be waiting for us. I can do it now. Thanks again, Ivan. Are you coming?”

He winced. “As soon as I can stand up,”

Ekaterin hauled him to his feet. “You need a cane, like Oliver and By.”

“I do _not_ need a cane. I don’t make a habit of kneeling down. I’m perfectly fine, otherwise.”

She gave him a look. He shrugged. “I’m not using a cane. That’s final. Let’s go find that drink.”

Every head turned as they entered the lounge. For this private, family event the crowd had shrunk to a mere fifty or so, plus the armsmen. There were no less than six counts, as Gregor wore his House blacks today. Piotr Vorkosigan, looking down from his portrait on the wall, could never have imagined his choke-point of one surviving son leading to this gathering here today. Perhaps his old bones lay easy in the graveyard now, alongside his sons and grandson. Aral Vorkosigan, too, would rejoice to see another Rulf Vorhalas under his roof, that old feud finally laid to rest. Taurie’s husband looked as if he felt the significance quite deeply.

An armsman hurried over to them with a tray of drinks. Ekaterin and Ivan exchanged looks and both reached for the exquisite shot glasses filled with maple mead. Cordelia, watching Ekaterin closely, lifted one eyebrow but said nothing, merely nodding her admiration before turning to Alex who stood next to Gregor by the fireplace. Alex raised his glass. “To Miles Naismith Vorkosigan. To Miles.”

“To Miles.” They all joined in. Ivan gasped as he always had as the rotgut spirit burned his throat. Ekaterin downed hers in one go. Her eyes widened in shock but she merely replaced the empty glass on the tray and took another. She stepped forwards.

“To my husband. To Miles.”

Cordelia faltered only briefly. “To the son of Aral and Cordelia. To Miles.”

Gregor held up his glass in turn. “To my brother. To Miles.”

Mark repeated the toast, and then it was Ivan’s turn. Simple was the order of the day.

“To my cousin. To Miles.”

Six shots of maple mead should have been enough to put an elephant on its back, but they continued. Selig and Nikki joined in, Followed by Prince Xav, Antoine Vorbretten and Rulf Vorhalas. Some of the wiser heads, not including Ivan, only took sips, but he still had the wits to notice that Gregor was downing his full measure each time. He was going to surrender his iron control this once.

They _all_ struggled to retain control when Miles Xav stepped forward. His lower lip trembled once but he ruthlessly suppressed it and raised a glass. Surely he hadn’t been matching them all along? Alys would never allow it. Ivan watched as Alex threw her a startled glance. She shook her head in reassurance as the rest of Miles’s grandchildren clustered round him. If there was any maple mead in that glass it would be the first and last.

Miles Xav and Delie stood together but their younger brother and sister were up in the nursery, too small to partake. Prince Andrei Vorbarra held hands with both his little sisters. His brothers were with the Vorkosigan infants. Lizzie’s twin boys were _almost_ too small to be included, but they’d kicked up such a fuss nobody had the heart to exclude them. René and Victor stood proudly beside their big cousins. Taurie held little Lord Vorhalas in her arms. Demetri yawned and sucked his fist. Someone would tell him about his part in history, one day.

Miles Xav raised his voice. “To our Granda. To Miles.” He downed his toast manfully, turning bright red as the spirit bit him, but saying not a word.

Laisa rounded them all up. “Time for the next generation to retire. Come along with me and we’ll get you all some food. It’s not long until bedtime for some of you.”

As they all trooped past, no-one daring to argue with grandmère or grand-tante, Ivan caught sight of the look Miles Xav gave him. He slipped out of the room to follow the little party, but Laisa saw him coming and waited to speak to him. Young Miles lingered, respectfully just out of earshot.

“Gregor isn’t going to let his hair down if I stay in the room. He really needs to get this out, Ivan. Miles’ death has just about crushed him. I’ll babysit all the kids, and any of the ladies that want to join me. Can _you_ look after Gregor for me?”

He’d only been doing that for more than fifty years. Of course he was going to look after Gregor! He was the closest Vorbarra relation he had left. The _only_ Vorbarra relative in their generation, now. It was too easy to take offence though. Laisa meant well. He managed to nod. She squeezed his arm and headed off after the tribe of youngsters.

Young Miles dropped back and shifted his weight from foot to foot as he tried to formulate his thoughts. Eventually he burst out, “Granda Ivan, _you’re_ not going to die, too, are you?” He was struggling with his loss.

Ivan did what he could, including a manly grip to his grandson’s shoulder. Miles Xav was both too old and too young for a hug right now. “Well, yes, everybody dies, but not any time soon, and not if my armsmen can help it. Your mother would give me a piece of her mind if I tried to do anything like that.”

Miles sighed with relief. “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want you to die until I’m old. Twenty, at least. I love you, Granda. Granda Miles insists I look like Emperor Dorca, but I think I look like you. I saw the holo of you when your were about to start the preparatory school.”

Old at twenty. Ivan had to bite his lip. He winked. “Granda Miles wasn’t always right. _We_ know what we know. And another thing I know is just how much you’re going to miss him. You just call me up when that happens, you hear? Your Da is going to be chasing his tail for months. He won’t mean to be gone when you need him, but I’ll be around, if you just want to talk. I’m really looking forward to hearing all about your prep school. Academy Prep must have changed since your Granda and I went there, I’ll bet.”

Lord Vorkosigan had recovered from his anxiety attack. “Yes, Granda Ivan. They have running water, now.” He flicked a grin, ducked the box on his ear and ran to catch up with the others. He’d be all right, eventually. He had youth on his side.

As Ivan turned back to the lounge room he saw the assorted armsmen and servitors filing out. Gregor or Alex must have told them to stand down. The last to pass him was Roic.

Ivan caught hold of his arm.“Where do you think you’re going?”

Roic looked at him with a puzzled expression. “We’ve been dismissed, my lord.”

“Yes, armsman, but not you. Not tonight.” He towed the protesting man back into the dining room and addressed everyone there. “We have one more formal toast. Fill your glasses, please.”

Belpierre Vorrutyer and Rulf Vorhalas scuttled round with the bottles until everyone was served. Ivan handed the last glass over to Roic. “He wasn’t just your liege lord, Roic. You’re one of us tonight.”

Roic looked in horror at the new count and the Emperor. They both just nodded agreement with Ivan. Ekaterin’s expression softened. “Oh, yes. Very fitting.”

Roic looked down at his hands for a moment, and then raised his glass. “To my friend. To Miles.”

That was probably the first time he’d ever said that. Ivan knew it would be the last time, too. He dragged the armsman over to the grouped chairs near the fireplace and pressed him down. “You sit. You know all the juicy stuff and when we get started on the stories we’re going to need you.”

Roic’s mouth opened and shut. He looked like he was going to bolt until Gregor pointed to the chair. Roic collapsed without any further protest although if a hole had opened up in front of him he’d have been a happy man. He sat, not catching anyone’s eye, obviously wishing exactly that to happen.

They all stared into the fire. Strangely, Rulf Vorhalas was the first to speak. “In all the years my sisters and I were growing up, we knew never to say the name Vorkosigan where my great uncle the count could hear. My grandmother never mentioned her husband’s best friend by name, but I know she followed his career. She was very happy when I introduced Taurie to her, just before she died. That Admiral Vorkosigan and Admiral Vorhalas would share a great grandson is very fitting, I think. Miles was the one who made it all happen.”

Cordelia raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that. Aral’s distress over the death of his friend never left him.”

They were silent for a while. Ivan flexed his knee, remembering. The old nightmare was going to hang over them until someone lanced the boil. They couldn’t get pleasantly drunk with happy or funny reminiscences until it was brought into the light. “I don’t know about the best day of his adult life, but I was there for the worst one, not counting the death of his father. He was _devastated_ when Pym was killed.”

Ekaterin reached over to grasp his arm. “Your armsman Harper, too, is never forgotten in House Vorkosigan. They did their jobs. It would have been so much worse if you’d been killed as well, Ivan, or Alex and Padma.”

Ivan inspected his drink. “They’d known each other for years, right back to security duty at Vorhartung Castle. Did you know Harper learned to ride when he was the ImpSec mole attached to Gregor’s horse troop? That’s why he was with us. He volunteered to take care of the horses. He’s very sorely missed to this day. Alex and Padma owe them both their lives.”

“And you.” Ekaterin insisted, but Ivan just shook his head. He’d been wounded in the first minute of the action. All he’d done was crawl over and shield the boys as best he could. He’d been no use to anyone much.

“Pym was dreading retiring.” Roic found his courage _and_ his voice. “He had a home with Aurie and me and his grandchildren, any time, after Aurie’s mother left us, but that was the last thing he wanted, to be dependent on anyone. The way he died…it was fitting. Arthur says the same thing. He died a proud man still, doing the job he’d sworn to do. He took that bastard Vorrutyer with him, too, begging your pardon, my lord count.” He tipped his head to Dono, sitting white-faced and silent.

Cordelia wiped away a tear for Pym, and for how many others? “Right and proper. All right and proper, but he still died.”

Alex bit his lip. “It was all my fault.” There was a chorus of protest and denial, but he insisted. “It _was_. If I hadn’t boasted to everyone at school that my Da and my Uncle Ivan were taking Padma and me camping, those bastards would never have known where to find us.”

Dono Vorrutyer had said nothing for most of the day, but this brought him to his feet. He leaned heavily on his cane as he shook his head. “ _Not_ true, Alex. You were _boys_. It was _our_ responsibility. I was their count, and I knew Sergei was out for some sort of revenge for Richars. I’m the one that paid for Vlad to go to the Academy Prep, and that’s how he repaid us all. He eavesdropped on you and ran tattling to his father the first chance he got. They were _spying_ all the time. I should have done a lot more to stop it.”

Gregor looked for a bottle. He drank before speaking. “It was ImpSec’s failure. Sergei Vorrutyer was being watched. We knew he was out for blood. We didn’t think he’d stoop to trying to murder children.”

Padma had been listening to all of this. Ivan had thought the counselling he’d received all those years ago had done the job, but there were emotions lurking there still. His son burst into angry speech. “He murdered Pym and Harper, and nearly killed Da and Uncle Miles, too.”

And Padma, at age thirteen, had taken the plasma arc Harper had tossed to him as he fell and shot fourteen year old Vlad Vorrutyer before their schoolmate could shoot Alex.

Cordelia hadn’t finished. “You know, our wonderful, wonderful Pym was the first Vorkosigan armsman to die in service since Sergeant Bothari. I had always hoped _he_ would be the last.”

“Oh!” Ivan sat up straighter. “That’s why.”

“That’s why what?” Gregor was starting to sound a little befuddled.

“Didn’t anyone else hear them? Miles saw them, I’m sure. Bothari and Pym were both there. They came for him, along with Uncle Aral. It was definitely Bothari I heard in the corridor, although it was Uncle Aral who woke me up.”

They were all staring at him. Why were they staring? Cordelia shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts.. “General Piotr was convinced an armsman would come for him. He couldn’t understand what was keeping him, some days. It was a Vorkosigan legend, he said. I guess Sergyar was too far for them, but maybe Aral did see them. Who knows? Maybe that’s why Aral was with them this time. Pym and Bothari, you say, Ivan? Both of them?”

“Yes, my lady. I didn’t hear Pym. I just knew, somehow, that he was there. I heard Bothari, and I definitely heard Uncle Aral. He woke me up.”

Ekaterin blinked slowly, like an owl, as she tried to follow what was being said. “I wondered how you’d got there so quickly. I sent Wynn to wake Gregor first and then you, but you were there straight away.” A fat tear started to roll down her cheek, and then another. It was the first time anyone had seen her cry. “I’m so glad he wasn’t on his own.”

“ _I_ saw Pym.” NIkki’s voice was little more than a whisper, but they all heard him. “I saw him just now, by the grave. He stood and watched beside me while Wynn and Dobra buried Da. I thought I was going mad. He…smiled at me, and then he was gone. The others didn’t see a thing.”

Gregor broke the silence. “More than a legend, then. I haven’t heard of any ghostly Vorbarra henchmen escorting their masters to the next life. I’m glad for Miles, though. He missed them both so very much.”

René Vorbretten laughed suddenly. It was time to laugh. “Miles couldn’t hold a tune in a bucket. I know he had some wonderfull talents, but music wasn’t one of them, was it?”

“Neither was poetry,” By Vorrutyer agreed. “Some of his efforts were downright painful.”

Mark squeezed Kareen’s hand. “He was OK with limericks. The short stuff, you know.”

Ivan wasn’t the only one to laugh. “Yeah…the short stuff.”

 

They were interrupted at last, by Gregor’s head of Residence security, Colonel Vorberg. Ivan looked at his chrono. Vorberg was too early. Ivan had told him 20.30 hours. He’d been so careful to make the arrangement with Anton behind Gregor’s back. One firework wasn’t going to hurt, and Miles had wanted them so much. It had grown dark outside, without anyone really noticing. Ivan tried to shake his head at Vorberg, who only nodded to Alex and Ivan before he addressed his commander-in-chief. “It’s five minutes to 20.00 hours, sire. You asked to be informed.”

“You’re quite right, Colonel. I did.” Gregor lurched to his feet, drawing on his Imperial dignity as he managed not to sway too much. “I know I forbade them in Vorbarr Sultana, but one can’t do any harm, and it was his last request. To the terrace.”

Ivan exchanged a surprised look with Vorberg. That was going to be _his_ surprise. Anton only cocked an eyebrow at him as they filed past in Gregor’s wake. There was something fishy about his expression. What was going on?

They all spread out along the terrace, overlooking the lake. There were people down near the little jetty. It was too hard to make out the details in the dark, but Vorberg wasn’t worried. He knew who they were.

At the stroke of 20.00 a flash shot up from the jetty to burst in glorious colour over the water. The reflections doubled the effect of the dancing colours. Vorberg spoke in a loud voice over the gasps. “His Imperial majesty requested a single firework to mark the passing of Count Miles Naismith Vorkosigan.” He paused as another boom rattled the windows and the brightness lit up all their faces. “As did Count Alex Vorkosigan.” There was another. “Count Voralys.” And another. “Prince Xav Vorbarra. Lord Mark Vorkosigan. Captain Lord Selig Vorkosigan. Nikolai Vorsoisson. Admiral Oliver Jole. Count Vorbretten. Count Vorrutyer. Count Vorhalas. General Duv Galeni. Byerly Vorrutyer.” It went on, until they were all helpless with laughter.

Ivan looked round to see the faces of all the children pressed to the windows above them. “The weasel always did know how to get his own way.”

As the last of the fireworks died away Gregor spoke to one of his armsmen, who started ushering people back inside. Gregor lingered behind. “Walk with me, Ivan.”

Walking was starting to get somewhat hazardous, especially as Gregor headed for the little jetty. The ImpSec crew down there melted away as they approached. At last there were only the two of them, and the water, dark and mysterious with only an occasional faint gleam as a ripple caught the reflections from the house. Gregor stared down.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Ivan. I spoke to Miles nearly every day. I didn’t have to _explain_ things to him. He just knew how I felt about things and what I wanted done.”

“You’ve got good men. Excellent men. Xav must make you so proud.”

“Oh, he does. All of them do, but I want Miles back.” A wrenching, gasping sob escaped. Instead of turning away to hide his emotion Gregor leaned into Ivan. “I want him _back_ , Ivan.”

“Now you’ve set _me_ off.” Ivan turned to face him and leaned right back to lay his head on Gregor’s shoulder. Together their tears flowed. Both their House liveries were going to be soaked at this rate.

Gregor was the first to win the fight for control. He’d had more practise, after all. After a couple of last sniffs and a cough or two he rubbed his hand across his face. “I can’t get what I want this time, so I have an alternative plan. I’m down to only six auditors now. I need another one, who can deal with all the High Vor troublemakers who plague my life. Miles was very good at it. He was Piotr Vorkosigan’s grandson, after all. What I need is a pillar of the Vor. Someone like old Vorhalas, who never wavered or flinched. There’s only one person I can think of.”

“Rulf?” Ivan stopped to consider him. “Surely he’s too young? Miles was an exception, but your Auditors need to be distinguished geezers, surely?”

“No, not Rulf. I don’t need a geezer, precisely, but a distinguished Count would do the job. One who looks like Emperor Dorca would be just the thing. I have one in mind. I’ll swear him in at Winterfair.”

The dark water of the lake looked like a better fate. Ivan was suddenly totally sober. He could only whisper. “You’re out of your mind!”

"No, I’m not, Ivan. I want a contemporary I can talk to. I’ve always had your utmost loyalty. I _need_ this one last thing from you.”

“I’ve been an auditor once already.”

“And a very good job you did, too. You know what they say about a job well done.” His voice softened. “ _Please_ , Ivan. You’re my choice.”

Raine was going to kill him. Padma would have to step up to be Count’s Voice on an almost permanent basis. He’d have to get his knee fixed properly, before Winterfair. He couldn’t kneel in front of Gregor and not get up again… They walked back up the jetty in silence, the camouflaged Vorbarra armsmen in their House blacks slipping in behind them in their silent escort as they headed for the house. Perhaps the two of them could sneak unnoticed into the wine cellar.

Before they reached the door Ivan took one last look up towards the graveyard. Such little shoes, but such enormous ones to fill. He sighed. “At your command, sire. If a distinguished pillar of the Vor is what you need, a distinguished pillar of the Vor is what you’re going to get.”

 

THE END

 

 


End file.
